Of seeds and weeds

by jumpy john clare january

The agent sure did convincingly expound
The easy growing of the hybrid seeds
Hoeing under the straggly weeds
To reap a bounty from the fertile ground.

Then when it came time for the harvest
The fields looked such a beautiful white
But something didn't seem quite right
Under that white were weeds we missed.

Sure is tough planting crops that pay
Takes too long to glean those weeds
That agent sure sold us on those seeds
Who can you trust these days?

Planters trying to grow our gardens from Eden
Swine rooting about mixing seeds and weeds.

Kentucky Fans Understand....

"Rupp's Runts", easily the most popular team ever to play basketball for the University of Kentucky, came home yesterday. Their many, many fans in Fayette County didn't forget, either, despite a 72-65 loss to Texas Western Saturday night in the championship game of the NCAA tournament. About 800 greeted the Wildcats' chartered airplane at Blue Grass Field, ignoring a request by airport officials to wait for the team at Memorial Coliseum. Mrs. Donald Summers, 346 Hill n' Dale Road, waved signs saying, "Welcome Home, Our Champs" and "You Will Always Be Number One to Us." Everyone else either applauded or yelled as the Wildcats, led by Coach Adolph Rupp, came off the plane and on to a red carpet. Among the last off was senior Larry Conley, who looked tired and worn after playing two tournament games with a bad case of the flu. Meeting Conley and wrapping his arm around him was Bob Wright, who coached Conley at Ashland High and now coaches at Morehead State University. The players looked miserably sad as they lined up behind a microphone. Rupp stepped forward to speak as the crowd pressed closer.
From the book, Echoes of Kentucky Basketball
The Greatest Stories Ever Told

a blue is coming through

There we stood beneath the incoming blue
Why was it only we saw it coming through?
They travel across countries just to view
And there we stood rapt in the blue
We posted the view upon our page
Most thought it just a bit above average
You told me it wasn't worth the rage
To remember I am three times their age.
So with the blue glow fading fast
We commented, wasn't that nice
A blue coming through





For me and you

Sulphur Scribes

by john clare

We were never the poets we thought,
It's uncertain any words ever fell in place.
With each using of one, another went to waste,
The discarded word then vainly sought.

I sat beside a flower with my pen,
What words I knew I used.
Carefully composing the words I chose,
Like plucking choice gold leaves from fall winds.

A sulphur lit and to her I rhymed,
To me it was quite an event.
It was beyond any word written,
Poetical as Frost's best lines.

Then the Cranes came upon the breeze,
That sound from beyond time.
In itself a gathering of Nature's rhyme,
Each composing upon paper blue sky effortlessly.

It was then an order became evident,
I was freed from finding the rhyme,
Of trying to compose within the lines,
Before me rose a curtain un-rent.

The scene I saw was of threaded light,
We simply pull the needle slowly to see,
Only the light flecks this side of the tapestry,
Backing black yet necessary to see the
other side wedding white.

We are to give sound to the unheard,
Not mere poets but translators and scribes,
Preserving in word His light coursing ride,
Touching you, me, cloud, bee and bird.

January 31st Mizpah

From Job 22:14.

In the evening chronicle of the moon, of which lately I have become rather intrigued, I pulled the camera on the tripod over to the left and shot some dipper scenes. This one is a 360 degree pan of the camera on the tripod for a thirty second exposure, even though it made a half arc. Very cool. Time lapse works the same, if you can get it right. The stars move and make the same trail.

And January Ends

The 5th and we celebrated the birth of our first grandson Nathaniel Manoa from our first son Landon and his wife Amber. On the 8th Melanie and I celebrated our 24th anniversary from that Jacksonville Marathon Honeymoon. On the 13th we celebrated Melanies 4oth something birthday. Later come the 25th, Jordon had his 19th birthday, our second son. Then come the 30th, this boy from the coal fields of Bluefield, West Virginia celebrated his 57th circuit around the sun. It was a good month.

Final Fridays

by john clare

The Friday you said I was fired
Clean your desk, here is a box
We will give you the discount of
the retired
Nineteen years and they changed
the locks.
That is the risk one takes
When you place family first
You determine to stay put
Not moving to Albany's turf.
And so you wrote me up
Documented the little mistakes
No matter I wasn't corrupt
Did not with employees love make.
I learned later from a friend
That finally you got your due
Sexual harrassment was your end
Sure was hard to feel sorrow for you.
But I am certain you bounced right up
Found another manager's position
Seems those who lust for the butt
Go right on with the kissing
While the loyal like me
End up working under bosses like you
Wondering come our Friday's
If you are in the mood for someone to screw.

Long Haul

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
My dear one with the scars
Scars I would have worn for thee
My precious son now marred.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
The hurdles are so high
The goal line so far from thee
How fast my son passes by!

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
I am in the stands cheering
I hope you can hear me
Run my Son to tapes tearing.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
From the sand pile and swing
The flowing ole Sopchoppy
Your grand, grand dreams.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
Mamma still takes your hand
Lifts you from the cedar tree
Hangs your painting so grand.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
Soon mamma breaks the plane 
Outpacing her little running lad
Legs vainly trying to gain.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
Know when long you have run
Far,far seems the victory
I shall come to cheer my son.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
Mamma's little gridiron boy
It's a long haul my little Jumpy
Mamma's little hurdling boy.

Come Prepared 14 of 14

So my story ends for now. The morning I came upon the mark of the cross above the path that led from the clash of the Red Palmetto and the Mist.  In our journey through, try as we may to prepare for all the possibilities, the best preparation we can carry is the anticipation of the extraordinary to occur. That day, I was loaded for bear. And when the Bear rose and the Red's marched beside the Palmetto to face the Mists, I followed and I thus return to tell you. As Ripley said, Believe it or not!

A sign given 13 of 14

And there, emblazoned upon the tree, the marked spot with a cross and the letters R and P.  And then the path was gone, blending as quickly as the Mists receded.  But as I stood looking back, I knew that I had witnessed the grand confrontation of the Red Palmetto and the Mists. If not for the descending of  heavenly Grace, it is certain I would have succumbed to the overwhelmingly powerful Mist.

A path provided 12 of 14

As for me, I was granted by this heavenly grace, a pathway of escape. Suddenly, before me rising from the forest floor out of the cypress and pine needles, a path, leading me from the place the Palmetto and the Mists met that morning. Much as I desired to remain, I knew I must quickly take this opportunity of mercy.

The descending graces 11 of 14

And as the legions of the Palmetto stood upon the threshold of the Mists, descending between the pulsing line of combatants, came the Heavenly Graces, restoring in a twinkle order to the upturned wood. As suddenly as this march had begun, catching every element within the forest up in the march, including this interloper, all was calm and of one peace. The Mist that was at once menacingly enveloping, was now but a lingering, harmless wisp. The Palmetto swordsmen now swayed peacefully. The Red's a lesser color of crimson. In the distance a Pileated chattered the news over the Hammocks longing for their loved ones called into the march.